Chapter 14 might be a bit late. I have a lot on next week. This fic is still moving on :)


That bloody witch kept touching him. Hermione ground her teeth in a way her parents would not approve…and there, she was doing it again. A fake little laugh that scraped down Hermione's nerves, and the touch –a sly stroke of thin fingers over the crease of Severus' elbow.

Wasn't she Kingsley's guest? Shouldn't she be keeping her stupidly thin fingers to herself, or better yet, pawing Kingsley, not her wizard?

Severus swapped his drink to his other hand, and the witch-touched arm was now safe from her, held behind his back, his hand curled into a fist.

Hermione took a gulp of elf-wine and willed her anger down. The drawing room was crowded and hot. Loud laughter and the thump of music jumped on her last remaining nerve. They were mingling after a rather indecent amount of time spent in the under-stairs cupboard. And Hermione could hardly bound over and slap the woman, no matter how hard it burned in her fingers.

Severus Snape was a war hero, Headmaster of Hogwarts, a brilliant Potions Master, an insanely powerful wizard… Hermione half-expected Witch Weekly to bring out a 'Most Eligible Wizard 1999' edition in the New Year, and he would be in the top two. Fighting for a place with the completely oblivious —and equally unavailable— Harry Potter—

"Mione…"

Hermione's eyes slid shut. Just for a moment. Fuck. Not him. Not now.

She pinched a smile. "Hi, Ron." Her gaze darted behind him, hunting the press of people… There. Lavender caught her eye. Hermione tilted her head, hoping the witch understood her meaning. "Crazy in here, isn't it?"

"No one with you?" His blue gaze slid to Snape. The witch was sidling in close. She'd have him shoved up against the bookcase soon. Then Hermione would have to hex the legs out from under her. "Though Snape is here."

"Professor or Headmaster Snape."

Ron rolled his eyes and slugged back whatever was in his mug. It left froth on his upper lip. He leaned in and the sour stink of hops washed over her. "He won't look at you, you know."

Hermione worked a frown over her mouth. "Who?"

"Snape." He bit out the name, a sneer on his face. He took another gulp of his beer. "I don't see him agreeing to kids, do you? I mean, he has his squibs. And would he really shit where he eats?" He huffed a sour laugh. "So, you're not thinking of spitting out a fistful of kids, if you get the chance to knock boots with the Greasy Dungeon Bat?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ron…" She let out a sigh. "We split up. You're with Lavender. You don't have to think for one minute about my future. You have your own to carve out."

Ron stiffened and glared at her. "It's all so fucking easy for you!" It was little more than a hiss, before he spun on his heel and lurched back into the crowd.

She leant back against the sideboard and sipped at her wine, letting her heart slow, ease back into a normal rhythm. She ran her fingers over her hair. Gods, Ron would go completely mental when he finally learned the truth about her and Severus.

"Hermione."

And now she had Lavender to contend with. Wonderful. Hermione twitched a smile. "Ron went off that way."

"I know. Charlie cornered him. He's taking him for a walk outside." Lavender's shrugged. "Maybe beat some sense into his thick skull."

They'd never been friends. Not really. Lack of common interests meant they rarely talked. And the only thing, person, they did share an interest in –namely Ronald Bilius Weasley— had caused yet more friction. But this woman would now be in her friend's life. And Hermione did want to be friends again with Ron. One day. Perhaps.

"I wish you all the best with him, Lavender. I truly do."

The younger witch stared into her glass. Something fizzed and smoked and the ripe scent of raspberries clouded over it. "You broke his heart, you know." She glanced up, her expression tight, serious. "He had this dream." She hand swept through the air. "Fame and wealth and glory."

Hermione's chest was tight. "He can still have that."

"I think…" Lavender's bright lips pursed. "I think he lacks the confidence. The belief is there, that without you –the Hermione Granger— beside him, he will fail."

Anger stirred hot and quick in Hermione's belly, pushing aside the quick spike of guilt. Was that his reasoning? Was she meant to be a…a crutch, a prop for him for the rest of his life?

"Then it's better that we did break up."

A wry smile pulled at Lavender's mouth. "I'm hardly going to disagree."

Hermione huffed a laugh. "No, I suppose not."

"Ron is also wrong. About his abilities." Lavender lifted pale eyebrows. "And about you and the Headmaster. Professor Snape watched you every second Ron was ranting." Her eyes grew wicked. "And he glared at Ron enough to scorch him to a crisp when he lumbered off."

Hermione hoped her face wasn't red, but her belly gave nervous little flip-flops. Merlin, who else had noticed? Would she have any number of Weasleys and gods, Harry, descending on her demanding to know what was going on?

"And of course you were glaring at that Welsh touchy-feely witch standing next to the Headmaster…" Lavender smirked. "Hermione Granger." She leant in in a cloud of raspberry and jasmine scented air, and her grin became conspiratorial. "You are such a naughty witch. I completely approve."

Lavender drew back before Hermione could formulate a reply. When all that she could do was blink. "You'll be good together." She clinked her glass against Hermione's. "To us and the wizards we need…and who need us." Her mouth twisted. "More than they will ever know."

"Good luck with him, Lavender." Hermione tapped her glass against the other witch's in her own salute. "Make him the best he can be."

Lavender's returning smile was bright and genuine. "That's my plan."

Nervousness clenched in Hermione's chest. Her old roommate did love her gossip. "Please, don't share…"

"Enjoy your secret." Lavender's gaze slid over Severus, cool and assessing. "Fit, lean, powerful and dark. Merlin, I bet he's a demon fuck."

Hermione spluttered her drink, hastily wiping the wine from her chin, only to find Lavender grinning at her. "Gods, Lavender…" But she couldn't help but meet her smile, to join her in laughter. It was strange to find herself bonding with the witch.

Lavender patted her arm. "I will find Ron and…console him."

"More information that I wanted to know."

"I live to share!" And Lavender sashayed into the crowd with more than one set of male eyes watching her swaying hips. Ron was in good hands, or alternatively, wouldn't know what hit him. Hermione suspected both.

She looked to Severus…and found that witch far, far too close. Practically pressing up against him, whilst Severus wore his worst scowl. The like of which Hermione hadn't since Sixth Year. Yet still, the persistent witch, smiled and stroked the stem of her wine glass and fluttered her eyelashes. Hermione pursed her lips. Kingsley had gone, abandoned Severus to the harpy –she scanned the room— the Minister had been waylaid by Arthur, two drinks in his hands.

Hermione couldn't claim Severus. Though the idea of sauntering over, slipping her fingers into his silky hair and kissing the life out of him was so very tempting… But she could be herself. Or the image everyone had of her. The overly keen and bossy bookworm.

"Headmaster."

Severus dark gaze was on her. And was that a hint of relief, quickly masked? "Miss Granger." He nodded. "May I introduce Potions Master Ceridwen Pugh? Master Pugh, Miss Hermione Granger. Miss Granger is an Arithmancy Apprentice at Hogwarts."

Ceridwen was a tall, darkly beautiful witch, all smooth elegance and oozing confidence. "Congratulations, Miss Granger." A cool, shuttered gaze slid away and fixed on Severus. Her voice was soft and low, with just a hint of an accent. More than simply her Welsh one. Where had this witch sat out Voldemort's threat? Ceridwen pressed her hand to Severus's chest. "And congratulations to you, Severus. It's been too long since Hogwarts was properly staffed."

"There was a war." Hermione gave the witch a snippy little smile.

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger."

"The decision was taken in 1970 -I believe, wasn't it, Headmaster?- to suspend the taking of Apprentices."

She took a sip of her wine and ploughed on, her voice edged with condescension and she made sure of it, a sharp, grating quality. She didn't miss the other witch's shiver. That tone –as Harry and Ron was well aware— equalled nails on a chalkboard. It had forced them to retreat, panicked and desperate, more than once.

"As you are also no doubt aware, Master Pugh, with upheaval and insecurity clouding our world, the focus was more on a desperate holding of what we have. With little thought beyond it." She pursed her lips, secretly enjoying the other witch's tightened fingers around her glass. Any harder grip and the glass would shatter. "Perhaps not the wisest choice, as how many Masters did Hogwarts lose, but I am happy to be the first to begin this honoured tradition once again."

Hermione snagged a little petit four from a hovering tray —found it lacking in Weasley-twin magic— and took a delicate little bite. She waved the half-eaten cake at the blinking witch, one who'd retracted her hand from Severus' chest.

Was Ceridwen aware that she'd taken a half step back, that Hermione herself was now closer to Severus and almost blocking his body from her touch?

"And of course, I won't be the last. There are some truly gifted students in the lower years. If you have the time now –and I'm sure you do, it's only just after eleven and the night is young— I must recommend one girl to you –a Third Year— truly gifted at Potions—"

Ceridwen forced a smile and pointed behind her. "I think Kingsley was looking for me."

And with a darting look at Severus, the witch vanished.

"Oh very will done, Miss Granger." His low whisper was dark silk and warmed her down to the bone.

Hermione turned on her heel to smirk up at him. "She was touching you. It was either that…or hex her into a puddle."

"Either would have satisfied me."

The strain of the moment -of the whole night- caught Hermione and she wanted nothing more to wrap her arms around him, to snuggle against his warmth and comfort. But she couldn't. That denial ached under her heart. "Can we leave now?"

He frowned and his hand twitched. Yes, he wanted to touch her…and was denying himself that right. "Are you well? What did Mr Weasley say to you?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not here. And I'm tired. It feels as if we've been in this house for days."

"I'm more than happy to leave."

He banished their glasses, but it took a little time to escape as they were waylaid by Hermione's drunken friends. His hand at her spine, warm and simply…there encouraged her to move. She wanted quiet time with her wizard.

And then they were in the chill of the night. Hermione wrapped a warming spell around Severus as they trotted down the steps to the flagged pavement. She knew how a chill could bite down into his bones now. His gaze slid to her, but it wasn't a sneer, not completely. There was a hint of affection, of pleasure at her thoughtfulness.

He took her hand and they crossed the road to the small, frosted square. A moment later, she was wrapped in his arms, his cold cheek against the increasing tangle of her hair, and Hermione let herself sink into his touch. It was a relief after the strain of the party, short as it was.

"Let's go home."


The distant sound of church bells chiming midnight broke into the warm and cosy silence of the snug. The fire flickered a golden glow, the hazy scent of hickory wrapping around her, safe and wanted and mixed with the perfection of Severus' arms as she sat on his lap and a mug of hot chocolate.

Hermione let out a soft sigh and rested her head against Severus' shoulder, enjoying the slow, teasing strokes of his fingers through the wildness of her unbound hair. "This is so much better." She pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw. "No witches pawing you."

Severus's mouth twitched into a smile. "Thank you for rescuing me." He turned his face to hers. "What did Mr Weasley and Miss Brown say to you?"

Hermione shrugged and took another sip of her hot chocolate. "Ron is insecure. Lavender will sort him out."

"He will not take us well."

"Probably not. But I don't plan to live my life pandering to Ronald Weasley's immature sensibilities."

Severus chuckled softly. "At times, you sound worrying like myself."

Hermione smirked at him. "I try."

"Hermione. Since it's now officially Christmas morning…"

His free hand, dipped into waistcoat pocket and pulled out a velvet box, much larger than the pocket would allow. The thought that he had expansion charms on his clothing was intriguing…until she saw that the box was open. And that on the bed of ivory silk, sat a ring.

Its green facets gleamed in the firelight. Too deep and clear to be an emerald… "A Gaia stone?"

"My know-it-all," Severus murmured. "A betrothal ring. But also an offering of harmony between us and a connection for you to the depths of the Earth, to nature's power." He took her hand and slipped it onto her ring finger. The platinum flexed against her skin forming into a perfect fit. His black eyes gleamed, a hint of devilment that caught her breath and pulsed a pleasurable ache between her thighs. "To enhancing fertility…"

Hermione watched the clear green stone –shaped glass from the heart of a volcano— flash in the firelight. The magic of it was there, a subtle flow of it, slow and rich, an almost intoxicating weave through her flesh… She gave her wizard a sly grin. "Are you being…lewd, Headmaster?"

Severus plucked her mug from her lax fingers and out it on the floor beside the chair. His warm hand found her thigh, caressing the blue silk of her dress, teasing it upwards, slowly, so slowly… "Would I do such a thing, Apprentice Granger?" He exposed her knee and still the dress crept upwards. "Especially to the woman who rescued me so successfully from the mauling touch of an unwanted witch."

"Should I claim my prize, then?" She nuzzled under his jaw, the lingering scent of his cologne, of the deliciousness of his skin wrapped around her. She licked and nipped his skin and he hissed, his fingers tightening against her now bared thigh. "What would you give your champion?"

A pulse jumped in her belly as his strong thumb pushed a line up the sensitive inner plane of her thigh. She twitched, rolling against his lap, her legs parting, wanting his sure touch so much higher.

Her heart thudded and she fixed on that slow slide, tracking it, her breath short. Would he really…? Was he really going to touch her? There? And still the dress rose, the thick, heavy spiral of magic from the ring thudding through her own tight flesh. The slightest of strokes… That was all it would take and she would shatter—

"So beautiful," Severus murmured, dipping into the shadow of her thighs. "I promised you, I will never leave you wanting, yet we will wait, Hermione."

The tip of his thumb was so close to her sex, teasing shapes against the smooth skin of her thigh. She clung to him. Hardly breathing. Seeing his large hand wrapped so deliciously around her thigh. She ached for him to push on, to push under, to push in. To chase the fiery ache scorching her flesh and gods, make her come.

"Merlin, you are temptation, itself." Severus shifted against her and the hard line of his own need pushed against her backside. "I would bury my face in your sweet cunt, then lick and bite and suckle. Would you want that, Hermione? To see me? Hear me?"

His dark words caught her, spun her thoughts, tight and thick. And she could imagine him, the black silk of his hair against her skin, his skilled tongue, that nose, fuck, what would he could do—

His clever fingers danced across her sex. A fleeting touch. Sure…but wild and right. So right. And Hermione's world erupted, a cry breaking from her, her spine a bow, her wildly twitching legs caught by Severus' strong hand. Gods. Gods. The wild, golden fire ripped through her flesh in a brilliant, consuming moment of bliss.

Severus' soft, warm laughter brought her back to herself and he pressed a kiss to her damp forehead

"Happy Christmas, Hermione."

She buried her hot face against his neck, her flesh still thick with the echoes of her release. A laugh escaped her. "Yes, yes, gods, Severus. Yes, it is." Her breath came out on a long sigh and she sagged against him. "And here's to many more."


I wasn't expecting them to go there... Oops?